Fic for Mattsloved 1
by grannysknitting
Summary: Requested fic - Sherlock is sulking because Geoff has a Pet and he doesn't. John gets Sherlock out of the sulks. Part of the Magic!verse. Rated for safety because it's SLASH


AN – follows on from the first 'Devoted Pets' in the magic one shots collection at the request of Mattsloved1. Hope it meets requirements, hon! (PS – turn your PM message feature back on!)

Warning – boy on boy sex scene (but not graphic)

Untitled (because it's SMUT)

Once Geoff had left, John settled onto Sherlock's armchair, positioning himself so he could see his sulking lover, but still be out of the way. John knew better than to try and alleviate Sherlock's sulk at the moment – it would only lead to a row and John had other things in mind for their evening: much more pleasurable things.

Sherlock clattered and huffed in the kitchen for a further ten minutes while John watched him, secretly enjoying the show, before stomping off to the bedroom. John followed him casually, glancing at the chemistry set as he passed to make sure there were no nasty surprises waiting for him if it was left unattended.

Sherlock had thrown himself across the bed, facedown of course and John grinned, toeing off his shoes and then climbing up quickly, sitting on the back of his lover's thighs to gently pin him in place. Sherlock made an indignant noise, but John ignored that with ease of practice, choosing instead to lean forward and press his hands on either side of Sherlock's lower spine. He rubbed at the tension there firmly before venturing further up.

It took all of eighteen seconds for Sherlock to relax into the massage. John grinned and mouthed 'shameless' at the black curls, knowing that Sherlock would probably sense it. He kept the pressure firm and even, ranging up and down his lovers back.

"Why would Lestrade be more interesting than _me_?" that was John's lover, unable to let go of a question.

"You're marked fairly strongly with my scent, Sherlock. A Pet wouldn't intrude on that," John replied honestly. That wasn't the full story, but it would do for now.

"You're my Pet?" Sherlock sounded startled and tried to turn to look at John, who reacted quickly enough to stop him by grabbing a double handful of the Holmes derriere and kneading. His lover moaned and went limp – just like he did every other time John had done that – and John smirked, enjoying the sense of control for a moment. In their everyday lives it was Sherlock who ran the show – John took his moments where he could get them.

"You could say that," John replied, kneading rhythmically and watching the way Sherlock's thighs twitched in response, "Take your clothes off, love."

He slid off the bed and watched his lover flail on the covers, clothing flying everywhere. John's own disrobing was much neater, and he resumed his place above his lover – who had dragged a cushion down to his hips and was now splayed on the bed very enticingly – running his fingers over smooth skin.

"Stop gloating," Sherlock's muffled order made John laugh. Sherlock had never quite understood why John appreciated his body so much – bless him – and John wasn't about to enlighten him. Sherlock's ego was big enough as it was. He took the lube from its place under his pillow – they'd been using it only this morning – and popped the cap, biting back an amused snort when Sherlock widened his legs in response to the noise.

He slicked them both carefully, taking his time despite Sherlock's encouraging wiggles and moans. The genius was always in a hurry, especially when he knew John was trying to divert him from some disappointment or perceived obstruction to his work. John preferred a languorous approach now and then, taking his time to get settled.

They were both panting and wrung out when it was over, their hands tangled together near Sherlock's shoulders, John plastered to his lovers back.

"John," Sherlock breathed and John shifted obligingly, letting Sherlock move so he could take the doctor in his arms, arranging them on the bed comfortably. Long fingers ran through John's hair and he grinned against Sherlock's chest.

"No petting in public," he ordered and kissed the skin beneath him.

"Why not?" Sherlock stared dreamily up at the ceiling, "Isn't it normal to show pets affection in public through petting?"

"If you want me to lick you in return…" John trailed off when Sherlock grunted in a negative way and smiled, knowing he'd won the argument.

For now, at least.

END

Disclaimer – characters and setting as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot (what there is of it) is mine.

**In respon****se to Matts last PM – yes, I'll do that!**


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